Will You Marry Me?
by Iloveplotbunnies
Summary: He hopes that if he asks enough, she'll eventually say "yes". J/L COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Summary:** He hopes that if he asks enough, she'll eventually say "yes". J/L

**Disclaimer:** Nope, it's never going to be mine.

**A/N: **

I started this piece thinking it was going to be a one-shot, but as I continued writing…I realized that I was having _way _too much fun with this piece. I really find Jane proposing to Lisbon to be hilarious, but I wouldn't be too surprised if Lisbon, later down the road, does decide to get revenge on Jane for some of the things he's done to her here.

So, really; this is just my attempt on a shamelessly cute, fluff piece due to the fact that I just don't want to write angst at the moment.

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**I.**

The first time he asks her, it's an accident.

They're in her office, it's late and she's cussing up a storm.

He's never found her more attractive, especially with her dark hair hanging in her face, exhaustion rubbing at her features and swear words, some he's positive that sailors haven't even heard, flowing from her mouth. Its then, as he's mesmerized by those green eyes of hers, that the four words slip from his own mouth.

"Will you marry me?"

He almost chuckles, especially when she stops in midsentence; her jaw dropped, mouth open, eyes, green and wide in surprise—she's almost too adorable to be considered legal.

(Not that he'll tell her that, of course, due to the fact the woman _does _carry a gun after all.)

"…wait, _what_?"

It's also then, while they're in her office and it's late and she's no longer cussing up a storm, that Patrick Jane decides he wants to get Teresa Lisbon to say yes, to him. So, instead of making up some lame excuse as to what he _just _said to her, not even two minutes ago, though he knows she heard; he smiles brightly, glances at her, innocently and replies.

"I asked you if you'd marry me."

She doesn't reply, and he's pretty sure, as he watches the vein in her neck throb, that either she's having an aneurism, or she's figuring out how to best kill him, and hide his body.

"If you don't get out of my office within the next five seconds, I'm going to find new ways to put my desk phone to good use." Her voice is low and soft, and that spells danger.

"You can't bludgeon your supposed suitor to death."

He doesn't stick around to hear her respond, or to become a moving target to her phone, partially because he wants to live to see tomorrow morning and also because being dead would derail his whole "ask Lisbon to marry him" plan.

(It doesn't even matter that they've only had one date, which she swears backwards and forwards, wasn't a date—he just knows he wants her to say yes.)

**II.**

"Will you marry me?"

The second time he asks her, she's doesn't seem to be _too_ homicidal.

(But uh…popping the question in the middle of the team meeting with Hightower present probably wasn't the _best _idea, as far as good ideas go.)

He doesn't get down on one knee, Rigsby is dying of silent laughter, Van Pelt is glancing between her boss and consultant, probably waiting for the inevitable bloodshed to happen, Cho just raises an eyebrow and Hightower is mirroring a fish. Lisbon's face, he notes with delight, is blood red.

He takes that as a good sign because it means she isn't dead, and she's not secretly a vampire.

"I didn't know that you two were dating, Lisbon." Hightower is the first to break the silence.

"We're…I'm…we…" Lisbon sputters, her hands flying everywhere and he smirks. "We're not!"

"Then why is he asking you for your hand in marriage?"

"I have _no _idea!" Lisbon sputters again. "I think it's because he's in a desperate need of different ways to torture me!" He glares at his future-wife-who-just-doesn't-know-it-yet before he scoffs.

"Lisbon, why would I torture you? I just want you to marry me. I don't think I'm asking for anything unreasonable here."

The response gathers some strange looks, before she turns to look at him, her eyes narrow.

"If you ask me to marry you one more time, I _will _get a restraining order."

He laughs to himself, because really, what else is he supposed to do?

(Get down on one knee and beg her to marry him? Ha. Yeah, like that'll ever happen.)

**III.**

Whoever coined the phrase, the third time is the charm, apparently never has met Teresa Lisbon.

The third time he pops the question, they're in the middle of a crime scene, the yellow tape surrounds them and the hot Californian sun is directly overhead.

(He realizes quickly that something is wrong with _anyone _asking "will you marry me?" over a dead body.)

He only wishes that she would have told him that sooner, as he spends the next two hours, handcuffed to the outside of the SUV—crying out "consultant abuse!" to anyone who cared enough to listen.

(She never gets that restraining order, but he learns to sleep with one eye open— just incase she decides she wants to kill him or something.)

**IV. **

_"I'm not here right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible_."

He grins, and clears his throat to leave her a message after the high pitched beep.

"Hey Lisbon, it's me…Jane. I know you're purposely not answering your phone, and I don't know why but I just wanted to ask you one question." He pauses for a few seconds, as he stares up at the ceiling on the brown leather couch. "Actually, I have two—one, if a person dies and then springs back to life, do they get their money back for the coffin? And two, will you marry me?" He chuckles as he closes the phone, and then places his phone in his jacket pocket.

(It's not until much later, when the office is empty, that he notices that he has a voicemail.)

_"Jane! I purposely have my phone on silent because you're the only idiot who wants to call and ask for my hand in marriage. Let me tell you something, I'm not about to get married to you because a) I have no desire of being your wife, b) you annoy the hell out of me and c) I already get enough of you at work!_" She pauses for a few moments, before she takes a deep breath and the recording continues. _"I'm not even going to answer the other question, because it's one of the most ridiculous things you've EVER asked. Now LEAVE ME ALONE!" _

He chuckles, as he pulls his phone from his ear and glances toward Lisbon's empty office.

(He just hopes that, maybe, just maybe, if he asks enough, she'll eventually say "yes".)

**V.**

It's the fifth time he's about to ask her, and he's not discouraged yet. (In fact, he's googled fifty creative ways of asking her for her hand in marriage.) So, while they're at a hotel for their latest case and she's in her room with Van Pelt, he dresses up in a bellhop costume and knocks on her door.

She answers, and her jaw drops.

"Telegram for Teresa Lisbon."

She grimaces, before she slams the door in his face, and he knocks on the door again. Van Pelt answers only to raise her eyebrow in response, he can hear Lisbon cursing him behind her.

"I have a telegram for Teresa Lisbon." Van Pelt shakes her head.

"Jane, I'm not even going to ask what you're doing…"

"I have a telegram for…"

"Lisbon, I know." Van Pelt sighs. "I'm sorry Jane; boss doesn't want to hear or see you…" Van Pelt shuts the door in his face, but he doesn't knock again—instead, he clears his throat and stares down at the piece of paper in his hands.

"Teresa…" He sings, "I want you to marry me, because you should be Teresa Jane-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e!" He hears something happening behind the closed door. "Please mar-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ry me!"

The door opens and he finds himself on the ground before he can blink.

"Lisbon, I'm not ready for this step in our relationship _just _yet." He smirks, and she refuses to get off him.

(When his backside is a beautiful shade of blue and black, he decides to take her aside the next morning to show her; she's not pleased at all, and he ends up riding back to the CBI with the sullen Rigsby and angry Grace.)

**VI. **

"Why is there a giant gift box outside my office?"

(He hears her move closer, and suddenly he pops out of the wrapped box. He's grinning one of his brightest smiles ever.)

"Surprise! Special deli…Whoa! Put the gun away!"

Lisbon has her hands on her gun, ready to shoot him; she glares at him because he's wearing a huge red bow on the top of his head.

"Jane! What the hell are you doing in a box?"

"Will you marry me, _now_?"

"For the last time, I'm not going to marry you!"

She stomps off.

(Oddly, he only thinks she's even more beautiful and he plans to try harder the next time.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **_The Mentalist _will probably never be mine unless I suddenly become really rich, and at the moment, that's not going to happen.

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**Thanks** to Sexy-Little-Angel, Lisbon94, Famous4it, Jisbon4ever, TJGlambert29, Holz9364, Chiisana Minako, DrEvilsketch, Frogster, Ebony10, ShunKickShunKers, lisbon69, raquelvalente91, lysjelonken, lucyyh, and Country2776 for reviewing the previous installment!

I'm just going to say that I believe Jane is missing one important thing to his wedding proposals. I wonder if Lisbon would say yes if he bought her one. ;)

Enjoy!

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**VII. **

"…so…maybe it _wasn't _the best idea I've ever had…"

"You think?"

Lisbon stares at him, the both of them sitting across from each other at a silver table in the county jail.

"In my defense, Lisbon; I was only doing community service…"

"Community service is when you don't go breaking my neighbor's windows with a rock."

He slyly grins, it was an accident of course, he hadn't_ meant_ to break her neighbor's windows but he had accidently gotten the wrong window, and had thrown a rock against the window to get what he thought would be Lisbon's attention to reveal to her the colorful banner which read: "Will You Marry Me?".

(Unfortunately…the neighbor was female and her boyfriend was over…to say it didn't end well would be an understatement.)

"No harm, Lisbon." He waves it off. "I think your neighbor; Jackie appreciated my heartfelt attempt to win your heart..." She rolls her eyes.

"My neighbor's boyfriend wants to murder you." Lisbon tells him, dryly. "Sadly, I don't blame him…"

"I was trying to marry you!"

"Jane, I don't know why you think I'm going to say yes."

"Because I'm irresistible, charming and you know that you're in love with me."

She raises an eyebrow in question at his answer, and he grins while he leans back in his silver chair.

"_Someone _needs to have their ego deflated."

"You know I make your day better, stop pretending."

"You're lucky I don't have my gun with me."

"…you don't have your gun? I thought you slept with it in…"

"If you finish that sentence, I will leave you in here."

"Lisbon, stop trying to teach me a lesson…" He brightly continues. "The last time we played this game, I ended up escaping."

"You also ended up getting back _in _here."

"Meh." He answers. "It's all technicalities and water under the bridge."

She rolls her eyes again, and he just continues to grin.

"Oh, by the way?" He continues, and she glances at him. "Will you marry me?"

(He laughs until he finds the small grin across her face, in which he quickly realizes as she calls one of the many guards over, that she's not bailing him out. After that, he's not laughing anymore and she gets the last laugh at his expense.)

**VIII.**

The eighth proposal is his favorite.

(It's as they're sitting in the SUV, both of them are traveling to the crime scene that he decides to flip on the radio at exactly 10:30 AM)

_"…and we have a heartwarming request from a boyfriend to his girlfriend…"_

Lisbon glances over at him, as he tries to hide the large grin, which threatens to bloom across his face.

"_…Patrick Jane wants to know if his lady, Teresa Lisbon will marry him…"_

He's grinning now, until she pulls over to the side of the road—her hands clenching onto the steering wheel for dear life, and he just grins brighter. It's times like this that he really loves his job.

"He wants to know _what_?"

"Oh come on, Lisbon." He argues. "It's not like you haven't been listening to my proposals for the past month…"

"You _called in _to a _radio station _to ask for my hand in _marriage_…!" Lisbon hissed. "Do you not think that's odd?"

"I think it's odd that you haven't said yes yet…"

"I'm not _going _to say yes, because you are an asshole."

"Hey." He replies. "Don't talk to your future husband like that. 50% of all marriages end in divorce…"

"Jane, I'm not going to marry you…now _or _ever…"

"What about with Green Eggs and Ham?"

She goes silent, and he knows he's in trouble now.

"…_he's also dedicated a song to her; we wish the both of them great happiness…" _

The first few chords of "More Than Words" mainstream into the car, and he knows she's going to lose it.

"Karaoke, Lisbon…"

"You should consider yourself lucky that we have a case, and that we actually find you useful as comic relief otherwise, I'd leave you out here for the coyotes."

(He only grins, because she would _never _hurt him…no matter how much she would _love _too.)

**IX.**

The ninth proposal involves a pumpkin, an extremely sharp knife and tons of Band-Aids from Lisbon's unlocked office.

(He manages to use the kitchenette, when he _should _be sleeping to carve letters into the orange pumpkin.)

He finishes and he beams to himself, because honestly? Who can reject a proposal written on a _pumpkin_? With at least five Band-Aids on both hands, he sneaks into Lisbon's dark office and places it on her desk before he rushes back to his own couch to await her reaction in the morning.

(When she does see it, she screams him into the office and the poor, poor pumpkin becomes apart of the pavement below and he's not only back to the drawing board but he's also out of $2.50.)

**X. **

"Good morning, my dear Lisbon." He greets her in her office cheerfully, and she merely glances up at him from her mountain of paperwork. "Sleep well?"

"Yes."

(He almost asks if she had dreams about him last night, but he doubts she'd like that very much.)

"Have any good dreams?" She glances up at him again, and blinks.

"Yes, I did."

"Care to share?"

"I dreamt that my consultant had his mouth sown shut, and that he _actually _listened and followed every word out of my mouth…imagine how disappointed I was when I awoke to find that you can still talk, and you're not listening to me when I'm telling you to get out."

"Ah, but you haven't…"

"Get out."

"Do you want to know what I dreamed about?"

"Not really."

He grins again, and then shrugs before he continues on from the doorway.

"I dreamt that the woman of my dreams was actually agreeing to my proposals…"

"Oh," she responds. "Good luck trying to get an answer out of a blowup doll then." His mouth drops in complete surprise, of all things he would have expected her to say, that one wasn't one of them.

"Lisbon, you're…"

"I'm going to get coffee. If I come back, and you're not gone…I will have you arrested for trespassing."

"I work here."

"What exactly do you do here again?"

"Ha, funny." He replies, as she stands up from her desk. "I'll have you know that I've saved you many times, Lisbon."

"Jane, I let you save me."

"Carmen…"

"…was a complete floozy." She glares him down. "I'm being serious, Jane. Do _not _tempt me." She leaves and he chuckles because, she's about to be proposed to again.

He waits to hear her scream, so he can escape her wrath but after a few minutes without screams, he finally hears loud, clunking footsteps and he silently wonders if it's a robot outside her office, or if it's Lisbon, and she's finally managed to gain superpowers to finish off her so-called _annoying _consultant.

It's Lisbon alright, and she's fuming—eyes wide, hair tossed in every which direction, and he knows he would laugh if it weren't for the fact that when the woman is angry, she scares him.

"Jane, what does the message on the refrigerator mean?"

He's confused; the message was straight forward. **Lisbon, Will You Marry Me? **

"Uh…it asked you to marry me Lisbon."

She snickers, and he raises his eyebrow.

"Not anymore, it doesn't."

He rushes from her office and into the kitchenette to find his perfectly arranged letters in a completely different order. Instead of reading: **Lisbon, Will You Marry Me? **It read: **Lisbon, Mauler I wrYly oM?**

(He spends the hours after, trying to avoid the strange stares from Lisbon; as she probably thinks he's a creeper now...but it still doesn't detour him from getting her to say yes-he just knows he has to step up his game again.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer:** I'm a poor college student; do you really think I have the time to own The Mentalist?

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**Thanks** to **Phoenixmagic1**, **Mrs. Peeta**, **lucyyh**, **Famous4it**, **Jisbon4ever**, **waterbaby134**, **DrEvilsketch**, **Frogster**, **Ebony10**, **BelleLee**, **Pinkiee Pie Kelsey**, **Streak of the Sun**,** lysjelonken**, **raquelvalente91**, **TJGlambert28**, **ShunKickShunKers**, and **Country2776** for reviewing the last part.

I debated adding twelve to this part, but eventually, eleven became the one I wanted to stand alone. You won't get many stand alone chapters, but for the purpose of setting up the next few proposals, it happens. I hope you enjoy this one!

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**XI.**

"Why the hell is there another box in my doorway?"

Lisbon's weary voice sounds, while she faces her office door and everyone glances at her before they glance at the seemingly harmless unwrapped large box.

"Jane, you better not be in there."

"Like I would try that twice, Lisbon." He teases, as he comes out of her office. "I might be a lot of things, but uncreative is certainly not one of them and quite frankly, I don't trust you not to kick the box...especially with me in it."

"Do I want to know what you're doing in my office?"

"I lost a contact lens."

"_You _don't even wear contacts."

"I never said it was mine." He grins, as his eyes focus on the box. "Who sent you the box?"

"I'm pretty sure you know who sent it, that's why you've been hiding out in my office."

"I _do _know who sent it, mostly because I'm…"

"If you say psychic, I scream." She warns.

"I'd rather hear you scream in a different way but…" She narrows her eyes, crosses her arms against her chest and he chuckles. "How many times do I have to tell you, Lisbon—there's no such things as psychics, only men who play their cards right and get lucky."

(Honestly, watching her fume is probably the most entertainment the office has seen in about six months—everyone and everything that happens in the SCU is boring, so later, they'll probably thank him with his tea made correctly.)

"You do realize that I can arrest you right?"

"You do realize that you have nothing to hold me on, yes?" He grins, and she frowns before the frown turns into a smirk.

"You're right; I don't have anything to hold you on…"

"See, Lisbon, you…"

"However," she interrupts him, the smirk still in place. "It doesn't mean I can't find other ways to _punish _you…" His mouth drops in surprise, and he hears someone snicker in the background.

"…uh…"

"I just need to get _us_ to your couch."

(Okay, so she won't say "yes" to his constant marriage proposals but she'll seduce him? On his _couch _no less? Forget the tea. This is turning out to be one of the best days at work in a _very _long time.)

"I want to use the handcuffs, alright?" He can only imagine that the people in the office think that he's hypnotized her, and with an innocent enough shrug, he follows after her and sits down on the couch while she takes her handcuffs and wraps of one of them around one of his wrists.

"You know, when I got hired for this job—I didn't think being seduced by the boss was part of my contract, but I like it." He tells her, and she leans into him, her breath hot on his ear, which only causes him to hold his breath.

"The thing is Jane," she replies, sweetly enough. "…you shouldn't piss off a woman who owns handcuffs; it doesn't end well for you." He blinks, and before he can stop her, she has the other cuff around his other once free wrist. "I thought about finding something to keep you to the couch here, but if anyone ever wondered in here—they'd wonder why you were chained to the couch."

"Don't you think people are going to wonder why I'm handcuffed to myself?"

"Actually, you wanted my handcuffs and you decided to try to get out of them without a key."

"You're evil." He tells her.

"I want to know who left the box, tell me and I _might _consider letting you go."

"I think I'll try to escape out of these by myself before I tell you anything, oh evil one." He grins. "Hey, Lisbon…sure you aren't a criminal mastermind?"

"Yes, Jane." She sighs. "I'm 100% positive that I'm not a criminal mastermind."

(He doubts that, especially as she walks away and he stands to watch her open the box to find a bunch of packing peanuts, she leans down and sticks her whole hand in only to come back out with a letter.)

She opens it, and turns back around toward him—the letter still in her grasp.

"For the last time, no I _will _not marry you—stop asking me, this is pointless! What the hell do you expect to gain from asking me, over and over again? My early death?"

"Lisbon, if I wanted your early death, I'd just call up an assai…"

"If you finish that sentence, I will arrest you for so _many _different things."

"I was going to say attorney."

"Sure." Lisbon scoffed. "And, I'm going to accept your marriage proposal."

"Really?"

"No."

She turns back toward her office, and leaves him standing with handcuffs around both of his wrists—looking every bit criminal.

"I think you all should be lucky that she chose law enforcement." He chuckles out loud to the rest of the team, and they glance at him. "Otherwise, you'd be chasing Lisbon, the criminal mastermind." Van Pelt glances at him, as does Cho.

"I think we can only take _one _Patrick Jane."

"Amen to that," became Rigsby's quiet response.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **I really hope you're kidding, but if you _really _feel the urge to sue me—I wouldn't hold your breath for getting anything _too _fantastic.

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**Thanks **to **DrEvilsketch**, **Famous4it**, **shepweir always**, **MK**, **waterbaby123**, **lucyyh**, **Jisbon4ever**, **phoenixmagic1**, **lysjelonken**, **Streak of the Sun**, **Frogster**, **dogeatdog**, **ShunKickShunKers**, **Ebony10**, **Yaba**, **BelleLee**, **Kate Tidly**, and **P. Schoeller** for reviewing the last part, especially thanks to the anonymous reviewers I couldn't personally respond to.

I _still _haven't been able to use my favorite proposal just yet, but we're getting closer to it. I can't promise anything about updates at the moment, considering that school has now started again, I'm not only in the middle of an insane work schedule but I've also been dealing with a bout of lingering sadness...but it's nothing that a little J/L banter can't fix. ;)

I hope you all enjoy twelve and thirteen!

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**XII. **

Lisbon glances at him, and he grins as the both of them sit in the dark SUV.

"We should go to the zoo."

"Why?"

She doesn't skip a beat, doesn't even glance at him until they stop at a red light and she has time to give him a questioning look.

"My hunches are good at best…"

"You have a feeling that our latest case involves the zoo?" He nods.

(Actually, their latest case has _absolutely _nothing to do with the zoo—not only does he just really want to see the aquatic birds, he also has something to show her.)

"How _much _of a feeling?"

"Oh come on Lisbon," he whines. "You could do with a visit to the local zoo; I know you've wanted to feed the ducks for sometime."

"Jane," she throws. "It's a _zoo_, not a lake and we're not visiting a zoo just to feed the ducks."

"But, I have a very _strong_ feeling that our victim was apart of an animal drug trade smuggling ring…" She narrows her eyes, even as she focuses away from the road for a second or so. "Please?"

It seems that at the moment, _please _is the key to getting her to do what he wanted especially as he watches her sigh and nod, as if a fight with him wasn't even worth it.

(Which it probably wasn't, anyway—they both knew he would win.)

**O.O**

"…did you know that penguins can't swim backwards?" Lisbon blinks as they stare into the penguin exhibit, where some of the penguins were currently staring at the both of them. "It's really quite fascinating…"

"Jane, what do _penguins _have to do with our investigation?" She peers at him and he grins.

"Honestly?" She nods. "Nothing at all."

She blinks again, and his grin gets brighter.

"Actually," he continues on, while he glances at the clock on his cell phone. "I just needed you to see something." She narrows her eyes and he steps back. "Now, before you decide that you're going to throw me to the sharks or let me be eaten by jellyfish…"

"That's not even possible." She sputters in disbelief, anger and he wonders if she really would have tossed him to the sharks.

"Yes, well…just watch the glass below us."

Lisbon glances down at the glass floor that they're both standing on, and he keeps his eyes on the time—until she gasps and he eyes the floor.

(There's a sign that asks her to marry him.)

"You should probably just say yes already." He offers, as he eyes his nails. "The penguins will be overjoyed that you actually accepted a wedding proposal next to their habitat," he glances up at her. "I'm even surer that we could get a discount on the tuxedo waiters..."

"…and I'm _also _pretty sure, that the damned penguins…"

"Hey!" He interrupts her with a frown. "Don't take your anger out on the penguins, they did _nothing _wrong."

She doesn't say anything; instead, she just turns and walks away from him.

"Lisbon, wait up! I need a ride! I can't ride the bus; they'll make me sit next to the one guy who could kill me with a single finger. Lisbon!" He continues. "I don't think you want one dead consultant on your conscious."

He hurries after her, but not before he waves at the penguins.

"She didn't mean anything by it, I promise."

(The penguins don't _actually _respond, but he knows that deep inside—Lisbon hurt their feelings by not saying yes.)

**XIII.**

"Lisbon, I want you to meet somebody." She doesn't respond, and he knows it's because she's still angry with him over the whole penguin debacle yesterday. "Now come on, grumpy. You can't be mad at me _all _day, I _said _I was sorry _fifty-seven _times, don't you think you've tortured me enough?" She doesn't respond, and he drifts out into the bullpen to find his visitor. "She's not happy at the moment, but you know what to say right?" The man with the bizarrely fake mustache stares at him.

"Yes, Jane. I still think this isn't going to work, and this could get me suspended."

(The whole suspension bridge is something he's willing to cross, as Lisbon can't even suspend _him_.)

"I'm going to introduce you two." He beams and he motions for mustache man to follow him into Lisbon's office. She doesn't glance up at the two men. "Lisbon, I brought you a psychic."

"I thought you had enough of psychics, because I've certainly had my fill." Lisbon hisses and he grins. "Between you and…"

"This one is special however…" Jane jokes. "This one can _actually _tell the future." Lisbon glances over at the tall, muscled mustached psychic, who is also wearing a dark cape. "Go ahead, Oh Mystic One."

Oh Mystic One glares, before he opens his mouth.

"I have a feeling that somebody is going to ask you a question."

Lisbon raises her eyebrow, and Oh Mystic One pretends to be mysterious with a wave of the hand.

"…and you shall say _yes _to this very important question."

Lisbon moves from her desk to stand in front of the towering psychic, and with out a moment of regret, she reaches her hand up to the fake mustache and rips it off his face.

"Ouch!"

"Rigsby?" He pretends to be horrified. "I thought you were Oh Mystic One."

Rigsby glares at him.

"Jane," Lisbon spins on him and he throws his arms into the air. "Did you _once _again, pull one of your coworkers into your ridiculous stunt?"

"Lisbon," he mocks her, and she narrows her eyes as he clears his throat. "If you would just _say _yes to this very important question, I would _never _pull another stunt." She sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Will you marry me?"

"Wait." Lisbon halts him with her unused hand.

"What?"

"I'm getting a vision." She dryly tells him, as she continues to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's of me responding to your question, and do you _want _to know what I said?" He nods. "Or rather, would you like me to show you what I did?" His eyes grew wide while Rigsby tries to slip out the door. "Stay." Rigsby couldn't escape. "Jane, close your eyes." He closes his eyes, and the excitement he feels as the exciting possibility that _number _thirteen is the lucky one, that she might just say...

(However, that quickly goes flying out the door when he lands on his backside and Lisbon's inside making calls to security. Now to think of it, thirteen was never his lucky number anyway…)


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **I'm only allowed to play in the sandbox. :)

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**Thanks** to **Brown Eyes Parker**, **nitakb**, **Flamey to the 27**, **blueMnM415**, **MK**, **Jbon**, **Famous4it**, **dogeatdog**, **Streak of the Sun**, **shepweir always**, **Jisbon4ever**, **Frogster**, **lysjelonken**, **lucyyh**, **JackSam**, **VEEBS8**, **waterbaby134**, **ShunKickShunKers**, **lisbon69**, and **Mrs. Peeta** for the reviews.

I had wondered when I was going to use my favorite proposal, considering that I've been holding onto the idea of it for sometime. I didn't want to use it at the beginning, I _certainty _didn't want to wait until the very end of the story, but because I believe that fourteen is a _really _good number, and I'm nowhere near the end of this story at the current moment, I felt like it was a good time to use my _favorite _proposal. :D

I should have another update for you all soon, provided that college stops throwing homework at me…

* * *

**XIV. **

After thirteen disastrous attempts of trying to get her to say yes, it only takes one late night in the bullpen to realize, that maybe, just _maybe _he's been going about this marriage proposal thing all wrong.

(It's not because he hasn't been proposing to her with a ring. Personally, he doesn't quite trust her enough yet to not try and flush the ring down the toilet, as a new form of rejection.)

Instead, he reasons that Teresa Lisbon, is an ultimate thrill seeker (or even if she's not a thrill seeker, she's still a sadist of some sort, and she probably gets a thrill out of causing him pain.) He doesn't _even _have to convince her to drive him out to the next proposal site, because their next case is at the carnival, and the carnival is where he plans for proposal number 14 to take place.

"Lisbon," he pulls her aside, as they start toward their dead victim. "It might be a good idea to get a view _high _above our crime scene." Lisbon views him suspiciously, and he only grins innocently. "Can we try this my way, once please?"

Lisbon narrows her green eyes, "No."

"…I don't think there's anything wrong with what I'm suggesting, Lisbon."

"Sure," she snorts in disbelief. "If you think I don't know what you're up to, Jane, you're sadly mistaken." Time to play the innocent card again.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Lisbon; I only want to find out who killed our victim..."

"Since when?" She still stares in disbelief.

"I'm offended." He scoffs. "Ihave _always _cared about…"

"No, you haven't." Lisbon tells him, before she starts to walk off from him. "I know you're up to something Jane, so no, we're not doing this your way." He grins, she'll change her mind later, and he knows that, because she always does.

(After several hours, two cups of coffee, and tons of paperwork –for her-, two cups of tea and a punch to the nose –for him— later, she finally concedes to his idea.)

"See, Lisbon." He beams. "You're already having loads more fun doing it my way."

"Yeah," she snorts again. "_Loads_."

"Could you be anymore sarcastic?" He asks, jokingly and Lisbon rolls her eyes as they continue toward the hot air balloon, that he somehow manages to secure for the both of them.

"Could you be anymore irritating?" She shoots back in response, and he chuckles.

"I could try, but somehow I doubt you'd appreciate it." Lisbon only shakes her head and continues on, as he follows close behind her.

**O.O**

"I don't know if anyone looks anymore suspicious up here, than they did on the ground…but then again, we're not _that _high up." Lisbon muses out loud to him, while their hot air balloon towers slightly over one of the smaller tents—a rope tethering them to the ground. "What do you think?" He glances over the edge of the basket, and he notices that if he somehow manages to jump, it wouldn't be that far off a fall.

"I'm sorry." He mutters, and she glances at him.

"What do you…?" She sounds confused, and he turns to her, places his hand on her arm before he begins to move toward the edge of the basket to glance down at the ground below.

"Lisbon, if you don't say yes…I will jump."

(Okay, so he knows this is a _low _blow to get her to say yes but…well…he doesn't exactly have an excuse for this one, besides the fact that if she _really _does cares for him, she won't let him jump at all.)

"What?" She sputters. "You're…"

"Yes Lisbon, I'm going to jump from here if you don't agree to marry me."

She narrows her eyes, and crosses her arms against her chest.

(He's in _so _much trouble—if he survives this _and_ Lisbon's wrath of death, he's going to have to buy her something huge as an apology.)

"You're going to do _what_ if I don't _what _to marry you?" She's outraged, and he merely shrugs. "Jane, this isn't…"

"If you say yes, I won't jump."

"You're bluffing." She calls, and he grins as he swings his leg over the basket edge to where one leg dangles, dangerously over the edge.

"Am I now, Lisbon?"

(…the jumping out of the hot air balloon, in hindsight, wasn't the best idea ever, as he's got a small fear of heights and now, as one leg dangles out. Lisbon's probably not going to say yes anytime soon…)

Instead of saying anything, she moves closer to him and places her hand on his arm.

"If you do this, you're an idiot."

"Say yes then."

"No."

"Lisbon, I'm seriously going to jump."

"No, you aren't."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you aren't."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Yes." Lisbon smirks.

"No…w-wait a minute." He pauses from their argument of whether to jump or not, to glance at her. "You can't do that!"

"I believe I just did, now get back in the basket before I purposely push you out." She shakes her head in disbelief.

"I can't…because if you don't say yes—I'm really going to jump." He continues, as he starts to bring his other leg over the edge of the basket.

"Is a _yes _really that important to you?"

He nods with a huge smile, "it is."

Lisbon sighs, as she looks over the edge of the basket, down at the ground, and then she pushes him out of the basket—if anything, as he hits the ground, he's grateful that they weren't any higher up, or _that _would have hurt.

"Are you alright?" She calls down to him, and he lifts his head off the ground to glance up at her.

"No…" She furrows her eyebrows in response, and he frowns to continue. "You didn't say yes!"

Lisbon's shoe meets his abdomen, to which he only groans and allows his head to hit the soft ground with a soft _thud_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **Nooo. *sobs* don't remind me. :P

* * *

**Thanks **to **HelpATemporaryIdentityCrisis**, **xXLuvin-itXx**, **24Mentalistlover**, **MizzFizz**, **P. Schoeller**, **Tabitha of MoonAurora**, **Brown Eyes Parker**, **Yaba**, **TeresaJane**, **Jisbon4ever**, **lucyyh**, **blueMnM415**, **lisbon69**, **lysjelonken**, **ShunKickShunKers**, **Frogster**, **nitakb**, **Famous4it**, **waterbaby134**, **katiegirl101199**,** kate tidly**, **JackSam**, **Mrs. Peeta**, **In The Name**, and **Streak of the Sun** for the absolutely wonderful reviews.

So, it's J/L time by my watch!

I've wanted to write for this lately, but I wasn't quite so sure how Jane would propose to Lisbon—especially as Jane seems to choose the most off-the-wall proposals…but oh well, he wouldn't be Jane if he just proposed to Lisbon with a ring, now would he be?

(Besides that, I also figured that we needed some J/L fluff-humor!)

* * *

**XV.**

"Lisbon," he whines, as the both of them remain on stakeout within the SUV due to their latest suspect. "I'm bored." She only glances at him, before she grasps at her coffee and takes a sip before she focuses back on the large white house. "Lisbon," he repeats and she ignores him. "…please, I'm going to slowly die of boredom…"

"Nobody has died of boredom yet, Jane." Lisbon interrupts him. "However, if you don't stop whining—you're going to find yourself on the end of a _very _uncomfortable situation." He grins. "I'm trying to concentrate…"

"…on what?" he interrupts, as he glances out the windows to look around. "A few mailboxes designed as a cow, a chicken and one that looks oddly like a…" Lisbon fixes him with a glare. "…never mind, I'm not quite sure _what_ that last one looks like…"

"Jane, we're on a _stakeout _here…"

"I know that, which is why I'm dying of boredom." He whines. "You won't even let me turn on the radio…"

"You're right." She interrupts again. "I'm _not _about to let you turn on the radio, especially not after your impromptu karaoke party in my vehicle last week."

"I thought you enjoyed it, you were even singing along."

"I was _not_." She sputters and he grins.

"You have a very beautiful voice, Lisbon—you shouldn't be ashamed of that, and I bet you even sing in the shower." He answers, and she fixes him with a dark glare. "What? No argument? I'm surprised."

(He honestly is surprised, especially at the lack of blush on her cheeks—but he isn't so surprised that she looks ready to strangle him with his seatbelt.)

"I'm trying to decide if I want to toss you out of the vehicle or if I should just ignore you."

"If you toss me out of the vehicle, I'll just go knock on our victim's door…"

"You wouldn't _dare_."

"Want to bet?" He asks her, and she grimaces. "…besides that, you _owe _me for dragging me out to the middle of nowhere to look into someone who is innocent."

"We have to follow _all _leads, Jane and no, just because our suspect had an alibi does not mean I trust him."

"Of course you wouldn't trust him, you barely trust me."

"I don't trust you at all."

He moves his hand up to where his heart is and pouts, "You grievously wound me, Lisbon."

"You'll get over it." She focuses back on the house, and he glances around in the vehicle to find a sheet of paper and a pen nearby—he picks both items up and uses the dashboard to place his paper before he uses his pen to draw a backwards seven, then he draws twenty small lines and hides the sheet of paper from Lisbon's eyes. "Do I even want to know what you're doing?"

"We're going to play hangman." He beams. "Guess a letter."

(He wonders if she'll kill him after this, especially once she reads their lovely phrase.)

"If I play, will you leave me alone afterwards?" He nods, and she sighs. "A."

"There are two A's."

"E"

"Three E's"

"Z"

"Nope," he tells her as he draws a head for their hangman figure. "Who uses Z anyway?" She glances at him.

"Z is a letter in the dictionary, Jane. Zebra, Zoo…"

"Zimocca," He offers and she raises her eyebrow.

"You made that up."

"Did not, Lisbon." He argues. "It means bath-sponge, but I doubt that I'd be using it in our game of hangman—unless I'm asking you to give me a sponge-bath…" He wiggles his eyebrows, to which she lightly smacks him. "Next letter."

She bites her lip, "C"

"No; our poor little hangman fellow..." he informs her as he draws the head a stick body. "I know you can do better than this, Lisbon."

"Fine," she sighs again. "W?"

"One W"

"T?"

"Yes, there's one." Lisbon sighs.

"O?"

"One."

"M?"

"Two."

"Jane, what exactly are you having me spell out?" She asks him, and he grins.

"That's why we're playing hangman, Lisbon. Next letter."

"L?"

"Two L's"

"Q?"

(Is the woman this bad at hangman? He wonders, as he draws an arm for their hangman figure.)

"R"

"Three R's."

"I don't know, Jane." Lisbon continues. "I really have no idea what you're trying to spell."

"Lisbon, you have _twenty-six _letters in the alphabet and you've only guessed eleven of them…come on, woman. I know you're smarter than that."

"If you don't shut up," she fixes him with another glare. "I'm going to throw that outside the window."

"...and then I'd make a citizen's arrest, because that's littering and you could be fined for that before spending up to ninety days in jail…and I can only imagine Hightower's face once we tell her _why_ you were thrown in jail." He beams. "Next letter, Lisbon."

"Y."

"There are two of them."

"F."

"Look, you're slowly killing him." He states, as he draws the second arm. "I thought you were supposed to _protect_ people, not _kill_ them."

"I don't think saving stick people is in my contact, Jane." She retorts, dryly. "But, just to shut you up…my next letter will have to be S."

"One S."

"U?"

"One."

"I?"

"Yes! You saved Joe!"

Lisbon glances at him. "Joe?"

"Yeah, what else do you call a two armed stick figure; Arnold?"

"You do realize that it's a line with a circle, and then two smaller lines right?"

"Joe."

"Never mind, I just want to know what the phrase was."

He turns the paper toward her and waits for her reaction.

**Will You Marry Me, Teresa? **

"Can I see the paper and pen, I would _love _to play hangman with you now." He beams, and passes it to her. "Eight letters, Jane—three words." She marks them on her paper, and he throws out the first letter.

"R?"

"No."

He gains a head for his stick figure.

"L?"

"Two."

"G?"

"One."

"O?"

"Two."

"H?"

"One."

"T?"

"One."

"E?"

She pauses to glance at him.

"Congrats, Jane—you win…do you want to see the phrase?"

He nods, and she turns it toward him.

**Go To Hell! **

He glances back at her. "I guess this means no, then?"

(The now crumpled piece of paper hits him in the head, and he continues to sulks for the rest of their stakeout.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **If I seriously owned this, she'd say yes already. Hehe.

* * *

**Thank you **to **InMyVeins**, **Heidi Erickson**, **Crazygirl99**, **jasdin**, **xXCoral-RoseXx**, **Yen88**, **dddynamite**, **katiegirl101199**, **Ebony10**, **JackSam**, **Holz9364**, **A2Aholic**, **LunaLove**, **Famous4it**, **waterbaby134**, **Frogster**, **TeresaJane**, **2AM**, **blueMnM415**, **raquelvalente91**, **LAurore**, **ShunKickShunkers**, **lysjelonken**, **.dolphins**, **24Mentalistlover**, **Chiisana Minako**, **My Beautiful Ending**, **Jisbon4ever**, **shepweir always**, **Streak of the Sun**, **yaba**, **Brown Eyes Parker** and **In The Name **for the lovely, amazing reviews!

I _didn't _abandon this story, and I promise that the next updates (as this story is coming to a close within the next two chapters or so) will be faster, as I'm not busy with anything besides school work, my job and the amazing multi-partner I've been working on with **watchyouwalk** called _Aww, Nuts!_

Anyway, I do own the poem that Jane reads in this chapter… I feel that if my poetry teacher knew I wrote it, he'd be after me with a crowbar ;) but for this chapter, it really did serve its purpose. I also have to thank the delightfully evil watchyouwalk, who provided the following words for me:

Gabble, Gadget, Gag, Gait, Gal and Gallop.

* * *

**XVI.**

He waits until Lisbon is in the middle of addressing her fellow agents to suddenly look interested in whatever she has to say. She ignores him when eventually, in the middle of her spiel, he throws his hand up in the air.

(She continues to ignore him, and he waves his hand wildly in the air to try and gain her attention—however, he somehow _does _manage to hit himself a few times to the amusement of Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt.)

Finally, Lisbon sighs and turns her head to stare at him.

"What?" He doesn't reply. "Does this have _anything _to do with our current case?"

"No…"

"Is this a comment about something I've said?"

"Not exactly…"

"Can this wait until after I'm finished?"

"No!"

Lisbon sighs. "Go ahead then,"

(He stands from the couch, and pulls out a sheet of paper from his jacket and Lisbon eyes him.)

"You better not be…"

"Hush, Lisbon." He tells her, with a giant grin as he clears his throat. "I wrote this, for our lovely Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon." The woman in question looks ready to kill him, and instead of flashing another smile, he glances down at the piece of paper to read from it:

"_My dearest Lisbon,_

_Your surname rhymes with chlorofluorocarbon." _

He raises his head to glance at her to see her making a slight face, and he grins. The pure intention of the first line was to throw her off, or at least make her uneasy.

"_Although you may think I gabble,_

_The truth is, with you; I babble." _

Rigsby chuckles under his breath.

"_While my job is to try and not make you gag,_

_I've become your handsome little punching bag."_

Lisbon narrows her eyes and he beams in her direction.

"_Because with you, my lovely gal,_

_It's certainly less painful than a root canal."_

"You're _about _to become my target practice." Lisbon hisses and he merely continues to read.

"_So if you put me in cuffs,_

_I'll let you be rough."_

"_Jane!_" Lisbon screeches.

"_And if you get me in bed,_

_You'll get the go-ahead."_

Van Pelt and Rigsby begin to laugh, as Cho smirks and Lisbon, instead of lecturing the consultant seems to be resigned to the fate of his poem.

"_Better yet, hit me with your taser,_

_It'll undoubtedly be a curtain-raiser."_

"What?" Lisbon asks, and he beams in return. "That makes no sense…"

"_Honestly woman, I'm head over heels_

_Just to get into __**your**__ court of appeals."_

Nobody moves to say anything, and he continues on.

"_Your dark hair is fine,_

_I'm drawing the line."_

Nobody says anything for the next lines either, besides for quiet chuckles, which come from Van Pelt and Rigsby.

"_Your green eyes are divine,_

_I'm floating on cloud nine."_

"_And if we wine and dine,_

_Have I crossed that line?"_

"Jane, you crossed this line by writing this awful thing." Lisbon tells him. "Just stop reading it already."

"_This should have been my opening line,_

_But, Lisbon; why won't you just be mine?"_

He stops reading for a second to gage Lisbon's response to his question, and he notices with bright humor that she looks five minutes away from killing him.

"For the seventeenth time, no. I will _not _be yours."

"_I can promise you'll never be replaced,_

_That's the main reason to gallop up, posthaste."_

"I'm _not _accepting your marriage proposal, Jane."

"_I can read your mind; I know what you're thinking,_

_And my dear, you should really do some rethinking."_

"The only _rethinking _I'm going to be doing, is having allowed you to join us in this unit." Lisbon rants.

"Lisbon!" He admonishes. "I'm sure everybody else wants to hear the poem as well…" He looks around to the fellow agents, who are all smirking. "See, Lisbon?" He continues to ask her. "Play nice, it'll be over soon enough."

"_I don't know why you're so against us,_

_Nobody else is oppressed, non-the-less."_

"Maybe, that's because you're my _consultant_ and I'm your _boss_?"

"_I've checked the CBI handbook thrice,_

_You and I both know that will suffice."_

"That doesn't even make _sense_! And when did you ever read the CBI handbook? Did you skim over the paragraph about how…?"

"_There are no rules being mislead,_

_Thus Hightower cannot have your head."_

"…of course not, your head won't roll because…"

"_(If she tries, I'll make a call on my gadget_

_That'll have her judging teen pageants.)"_

"What?" Van Pelt sputters. "You can't do that, Jane!"

"_And now that you know my cunning plan,_

_Shall I ask Cho to be my best man?"_

Everyone besides Lisbon glances at Cho, who seems to be worried about the idea of _being _Jane's best man, especially when his boss is the one that signs paychecks.

"You can think on it Cho," He tells him. "There's no rush."

"I haven't even said…!"

"_Then, down the aisle we'll gait,_

_When should we set the date?"_

Everyone falls silent within the bullpen as he shuffles to put his poem away, and then he glances back up at Lisbon.

"What'd you think?" He beams, and Lisbon narrows her eyes.

"We aren't setting a date, Jane…because for the last time, I'm not marrying you. Did you ever think that maybe, _just _maybe…I don't want to marry you, because we haven't been on a date yet."

"If I ask you on a date, will you marry me?"

"_No_."

"But, you just…"

"Jane that does not mean I _want _to go on a date with you; I'm just afraid you might have more poetry on you."

"Why?" He grins. "Did you like it that much?"

"Please, do tell me—in what parallel universe, does my last name rhyme with clarbonclufloxide?"

"Don't you mean chlorofluorocarbon?" He beams.

"No Jane, I mean the _other _"C" word." He doesn't reply, and she scoffs. "Of course, I do Jane! As much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad that you became our consultant."

(Maybe she _will _say yes…after-all, she's never actually said that she's glad he's _their_ consultant.)

"…If only because it prevents you from publishing horrible pieces like that."

He pouts.

"It wasn't that bad!"

"Jane," Van Pelt interrupts. "You tried to rhyme gadget with the word _pageant._"

"I thought you could all appreciate my literary genius."

"Nope, not genius." Cho responds. "Not even close."

"Yeah, something else entirely." Rigsby chuckles.

"I thought it was good!" He defends, and Lisbon steps over to him and holds out her hand. "What?"

"Give me the poem."

"No."

"Jane!"

"It's mine!"

"Yet, you wrote it for_ me_."

He pauses, before he reluctantly hands it over and she pockets it.

"Now, we're going to…"

"Does this mean you'll marry me now?"

(She ignores him, and carries on with her debriefing.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **I wish.

* * *

**Thank you **to **Jansku**, **Kate Mulder**, **Depresnjak**, **x-Pick'n'Mix-x**, **phoenixmagic1**, **Yen88**, **Hot Summer Days**, **PriscilaOrglene**, **LizfromItaly**, **information specialist**, **blueMnM415**, **xx Guess xx**, **Streak of the Sun**, **Frogster**, **TeresaJane**, **xXCoral-RoseXx**, **walk65**, **Brown Eyes Parker**, **24Mentalistlover**, **ShunKickShunKers**, **LAurore**, **Jisbon4ever**, **Ashetreerose**, **waterbaby134**, **My Beautiful Ending**, **SpringBloom**, **JackSam**, **In The Name**, **InMyVeins**, **Ebony10** and **watchyouwalk** for the reviews from the last part.

Okay, I seriously had to update on Valentines' Day. It just seemed like a perfect holiday to put out this chapter, so whether you celebrate Valentines' Day or not…most of us just can't seem to get enough J/L fluff!

Without further ado, I give you all…proposals XVII and XVIII!

* * *

**XVII.**

"Jane!" Lisbon hisses, as she pushes the door open to her dark office. "I _thought _I locked this room last night, but no…here you are, on my couch and…" She pauses to flip on the light, and then turn back to him; only to drop her jaw in surprise. "…is there any particular reason why you aren't _wearing a shirt_?"

He grins, and glances up at her from the couch positioned in her office. "Meh, to answer your first question—no locked door can stop me and secondly, I thought this was "Show Your Chest" day." Lisbon narrows her eyes. "No? Was I supposed to do that next week? I always get these office events confused…"

"Get. Out."

"You know, you could be nicer—I don't show just _anybody _my chest."

"Jane, I never _asked _to see your chest in the first place!"

"Ah, but you do fantasize about it, then?"

(Lisbon might kill him for this, he decides, but how else does he get the woman to say yes!)

"Fantasize? No. Nightmares? Yes. Very _vivid _nightmares; nightmares that start off just like this."

"Oh, you dream about me…do you, Lisbon?"

"I dream that one day, you're going to show up in my office without a shirt on and then, you're going to do something completely idiotic." He beams, and she sighs with a straight face. "Who am I going to be apologizing to?"

"Nobody…well…" He pauses. "You might want to apologize to my chest."

"Your chest?" She sputters. "I don't think so."

"See, that's your problem…." He stands from her couch, and her eyes glance at his chest. "…and now, you're enjoying this…"

"I would rath…" Lisbon pauses again. "Jane, did you get a tan?"

"I'm so _glad _you noticed, Lisbon!" He tells her, grinning.

"…and…is your stomach asking me to…"

(He doesn't have to glance down at himself to know what she's talking about)

"Funny story about that." He gestures toward his stomach. "I finally decided to go get a tan, and well…I burn fairly easy, so I decided to use sunscreen…it never actually occurred to me that the message on my stomach would turn out like that." He glances back at her. "Considering it's already there, Lisbon…I'm going ahead and…"

"You're not proposing to me, especially _without _a shirt on."

"Why not?"

"Because your stomach says: "Will You Marry Me"?" Lisbon offers. "Who in their _right _mind would get a wedding proposal like that?" He opens his mouth and she shakes her head. "You obviously aren't in your right mind, so don't speak."

"How about you answer me back with your own tan?" He asks, and she grimaces. "I bet you have a pretty little number in your closet somewhere." When she doesn't respond, he continues on. "You and I can go to the beach, and you can write the message on yourself…"

"How about I just save the _suspense_, and give you your answer here?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Jane, I mean it. I'm not going to marry you, and I _don't _ever want to see you come into my office again without a shirt on…"

"Is this one of those no shoes, no shirt, no service deals?" He asks her, and she steps toward him. "I suppose so. Honestly though, Lisbon…if you want to service me, I can go toss my shirt back on and be back in five minutes flat."

"Leave."

"I don't think I will." He plops back down on her couch. "This is a free country, and I'm allowed to sit anywhere I want."

"Is that so?" Lisbon questions, and he nods.

"Then I _elect _that you go back to your couch, and leave me alone before I _veto_ you out of this office."

"Ooo! Very nice, Lisbon! I really do enjoy this! Shall we play some more word games, then?" He teases, and she glares. "First word that comes to mind when I say…bondage?"

"Get."

"Sadomasochist?"

"Out."

"I don't even think you're trying, Lisbon!" He cries. "Give me one word, and then I'll leave—all right?" She doesn't nod, and he continues on. "Here it is, marry…"

"NOW!"

He blinks, she blinks.

"If you wanted to get married, why didn't you just say so?" He grins. "However, we'll have to wait to marry…I hear these things take time and…" He watches her pull her taser out from her pocket. "…you know; I hear that we can get a cheap wedding if we just scratch all the attendants', the reception, the decorations, the church and instead get married by some internet program…"

(He escapes her office, and tries to behave for the rest of the day—lest he be tased shirtless by Lisbon.)

* * *

**XVIII.**

If there was one thing Teresa Lisbon didn't enjoy, it was not being able to get the last word in. Sure, she _had _left her consultant on the bus after that one proposal, but still…Jane had always managed to ask for her hand in _something _before she had the chance to silence him.

Oddly enough though, Jane remained silent after his last failed tanning proposal—in the seven days since, Jane hadn't asked _once _for anything relating to marriage and while most people would have taken that as a blessing; she didn't.

A silent Jane 99.5% of the timeequaled a bad thing.

She knew he wasn't trying to get over his wounded pride, but instead, he was trying to find a new way to propose to her and she knew she'd never be able to stop him—so instead, she waited another week for his _eighteenth proposal_.

It never came.

Lisbon wondered if maybe, just maybe he had finally gotten the hint that she was _never _going to say yes. When on the third week; Jane stepped into her office, opened his mouth and held a silver platter toward her.

Instead of glaring at him, or crossing her arms—she decided to fight fire with fire.

"Lisbon, I baked this just for you and…"

She didn't let him finish.

"Jane, will you marry me?"

Jane opened his mouth, and shut it quickly—the platter falling from his hands in mute surprise while Lisbon smirked; she _was _evil, but Jane needed to learn.

"Hold up!" Jane cried. "That's not how this works! I'm supposed to ask _you _to marry me, and you're supposed to get annoyed!" Lisbon continued to smirk. "You're _not _supposed to ask me to marry you! Lisbon! You're playing dirty!"

"I didn't think this was a game."

"_Lisbon-n-n-n-n-n-n-n_!" Jane whined. "Can't I, just _once_, ask you the question without being kicked out, threatened or interrupted?"

"No. Get out."

Jane moved to pick up his silver platter, before he grinned at her.

"Just to let you know, I _always _get the woman."

He left, and Lisbon groaned.

What had she just done?


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **It'll never be mine!

**Thank you **to **Davi**, **Ashtreerose**, **evil neko. X**, **Love To Flirt Like C****razy**, **VEEBS8**, **xxxBekaForEvaxxx**, **Kuhlama**, **fiona249**, **Jansku**, **govgal**, **Yen88**, **PriscilaOrglene**, **24Mentalist**, **Frogster**, **Jisbon4ever**, **Streak of the Sun**, **ShunKickShunKers**, **LAurore**, **LizfromItaly**, **VelonicaSushi**, **Jisbonislove**, **Hot Summer Days**, **x-Pick'n'Mixx-x**, **Donnie Lynch**, **waterbaby134**, **Donnamour1969**, **JackSam**, **Ebony10**, **Brown Eyes Parker**, **Famous4it**, and **watchyouwalk **for the amazing reviews!

The next chapter is ultimately the last chapter, however—we're not quite through with this story yet, now are we? XD I seriously hope you enjoy this chapter, because I couldn't stop laughing while I was writing it.

* * *

**XIX.**

"Ah, the favorite part of my job." He told her, as the both of them sat next to each other on the airplane. Lisbon didn't exactly look relaxed _or _happy about him sitting down next to her, he decided as he threw her a giant grin. "The free travel benefits. It's almost like being rich, but we're not…"

"I hope you don't expect me to entertain you the entire trip." Lisbon responded, as she continued to glance down at the book she was reading.

"Lisbon, why would you want to read when we have a window?" He asked her, as he peered over her out the open window. "I think I see the CBI from here…"

"If you can see the CBI from here, I wonder why you can't see when you're about to be punched then." Lisbon said, as she turned a page in her book.

"Once again, knowing what happens before it happens involves psychic ability—which I assure you, I don't have." Lisbon refused to respond, and he twiddled his thumbs together for a moment or so until he glanced back down at her. "I had no idea that you were psychic, but since you are one…" He ignored her glare. "I'm going to ask you to tell me what I'm about to do, you have three guesses."

"Jane!" Lisbon snapped.

"Lisbon!" He mocked, with a chuckle. "If you guess right, I'll leave you alone to read your romantic novel in peace."

"It's not a romantic novel."

"Of _course_ not…"

"I don't even _own _a romantic novel!" Lisbon hissed in response.

"…I guess the romantic novel I found in your office, tucked under the couch cushions was Van Pelt's then?" He questioned, and he turned around to spot the red-headed agent in question. "I guess I'll just ask her then."

"Go right ahead," Lisbon remarked, as she continued to read before she glanced up at him. "And while you're at it, tell her that you've been raiding her desk to find _said _romantic novel." He frowned.

(It's not like raiding her desk was against any rules, after all, Van Pelt had never said anything about _not _raiding her desk.)

"It wouldn't have fit your tastes anyway." He informed her, and she raised her eyebrow toward him. "You're a secret romantic, so the stories involving nothing but sex and bondage don't enchant you."

"How do you know that doesn't enchant me?"

"Because Lisbon, I can read your mind." He responded, and he knew she didn't exactly believe that…so, he continued on with a charming grin. "But I've also looked at your bookcase, and nothing indicates that you're a psychopath,a sappy romanticist or a dominatrix, who has a thing for leather."

Lisbon merely glanced back down at her book, "I'm never going to let you in my home again."

"Restraining orders won't work on me, Lisbon…and you won't even know I'm there."

"B&E is a crime, just to let you know."

"Not if you don't get caught." He answered, and Lisbon shook her head.

"I'm going back to read, so I can pretend that you're _not _conspiring to commit a crime." Lisbon explained, and he stood from his seat. "Where are you going?"

"You're the psychic, you tell me." He responded, before he stepped down the aisle of the plane and toward the pilot's quarters.

"Sir, you can't be up here…" The flight attendant told him, while she grinned widely. "Please take your seat…"

"Kylee…" He interrupted her, with a glance at her nametag. "I wanted to ask if I could use the loud-speaker system to ask my girl-friend of three years to marry me." Kylee cooed, before she nodded and handed him the loud-speaker handset. "Now, how do I work it?"

"You just press here." Kylee gushed, as she pressed the button for him and he grinned, as Kylee released the button. "I hope she says yes."

"Thank you!" He turned back to the passengers, and pressed the speaker button. "Hello? Is this thing on?" He focused on Lisbon, as her head shot up from her book to stare at him in disbelief. "Is everybody enjoying their flight so far?"

The mumbles from the passengers caused him to grin.

"Wonderful! I suppose I should tell you that I'm not the inflight entertainment." Many of the female passengers (who apparently weren't married) cried out their phone numbers. "Anyway, I'm up here to ask Teresa Lisbon something." He pointed at her, and most of the passengers turned back to stare at her. "Lisbon, you've been my girl-friend of three years—will you do the honor of making me the happiest man alive, so we can get married and have tons of cute babies together?" Lisbon just stared at him, as the other passengers (except Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby, who seemed to be viewing the proposal in almost fits of laughter) clapped. "I know I'm not the best man in the world; I annoy you, you annoy me, but I promise you that I will make all your dreams come true—leather included." Lisbon's jaw tensed, as he lowered himself down on one knee. "I also know our relationship hasn't been working out lately, considering you're the workaholic and I'm the perfect boyfriend—but I promise I'll be better, I promise that I'll clean the house and take Fluffy out for a walk, so he doesn't eat your loafers. Lisbon, I'll do anything for you—because, I'm perfectly crazy about you." The passengers awed. "Honestly, love. I don't know how better to say it…and I'd sing it, but you said my singing voice kills kittens." He smiled somewhat weakly at Lisbon, who seemed on the verge of committingmurder right then and there. "So, Teresa…will you marry me? Please say yes!"

He stood, and passed the handset back to Kylee—who seemed to be on the verge of tears—and slowly made his way to sit back down next to Lisbon.

"I bet you couldn't see that one coming." He whispered, instead of saying anything, Lisbon stomped on his foot. "Ouch!"

"Did you see that coming, boy-friend?" Lisbon hissed, and he opened his mouth to respond, when she stepped on his foot again.

"Is this how you answer _all _your proposals, Lisbon?" He asked. "Violence?" She glanced back down at her book.

(He winced as her foot came into contact with his leg as one of the passengers in front of them elbowed her husband, and asked why he couldn't have proposed to her like that.)

* * *

**XX.**

He felt something hit his chest, and he peeked down at the offending object to find that it was a simple, harmless green stuffed frog that Lisbon had tossed at him from beside his couch.

"You bought me a gift, Lisbon?" He asked her, as he held the object. "Don't be offended, as it's the thought that counts, but I'm not exactly a frog person."

"You know _exactly _why I brought this to you."

"It's not our three year anger anniversary is it?" He questioned, and Lisbon stared him down. "I didn't think so, so no, Lisbon. I did _not _sneak into your office, and place the frog on your desk with the intention of making you angry—so either, I've been hypnotized, which is _very _unlikely…as you've banned all hypnotists from the office, orrrrr…." He drew the 'r' out with a wide grin. "Somebody has a secret admirer."

"Secret admirer, huh?" She questioned. "How do you explain the stitching on the foot then?" He glanced down at the foot to find "P.J." stitched in white thread, on the very bottom of the left foot.

"I'm not the only P.J. in the CBI." He explained. "The janitor for example, his name is Pete Jenkins and the secretary, Pattie Jasper..."

"Jane!" Lisbon chided. "You're the only person _stupid _enough to continue asking me to marry you!"

"What does that have to do with your frog?" He questioned, as he handed it back to her and she snatched it from him.

"I also found a note with it. Do you know what it said?"

"Do not open until next September?" He replied innocently.

(Obviously, she either wasn't very amused or in a good mood as she threw the frog at him again.)

"No!" She hissed. "It asked if I would marry P.J., and do you know what I'm going to say to that?"

"…I hope you say no, Lisbon." He responded with a frown. "I don't think it would be a wise idea to marry a complete stranger, or even the janitor Pete…I'm sure he's half stalker." Lisbon cocked her head slightly in confusion, and he beamed. "However, if you tell this P.J. yes—send me an invite, I'll come for the free food."

Lisbon spun on her heels, and left him to chuckle on his couch.

—**sometime later— **

Somebody knocked on Lisbon's door.

"Come in!" Lisbon cried, and she merely glanced back down at the computer before she glanced back up to find the janitor (Pete Jenkins) in her office, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Ma'am, will you marry me?" Lisbon could only jump out of her seat and stomp into the bullpen, to find Jane in the middle of telling a joke to Van Pelt.

"…and the chicken said…Hi Lisbon! Was there something you needed?"

"What is the _meaning _of this!" She hissed.

"Lisbon, we're just telling a joke." Jane explained. "Would you like to…"

"Jane! Did you pay Pete Jenkins to come and ask me to marry him?"

"Ah, so Pete Jenkins _is _your secret admirer…he must be quite…froggy about you." Van Pelt stifled a laugh, and Lisbon narrowed her eyes. "However, I still advise you against saying yes. Unless, you're quite fly into him as well."

"Boss," Van Pelt interceded, weakly. "I've been here all afternoon with Jane, there's no way he could have found the janitor for this task."

"Somehow, he did it."

"Lisbon, would you like me to come save you from your quite-ribbiting fiancé?" Lisbon narrowed her eyes. "Excellent!" Jane clapped. "Van Pelt, you're ordained aren't you?"

"JANE!" Lisbon shouted, and Jane grinned back at her.

"Just kidding." He responded with a pause. "Or am I?" She wasn't amused. "Fine. Hey! Pete, come here!" Pete moved from Lisbon's office, and Jane frowned. "I guess Lisbon wants to be an old maid for the moment."

"Ah, it's alright." Pete answered. "I gots a wife anyway."

He threw the flowers away into the nearest trashcan, and continued to finish his work for the day.

"Well, now I'm just _green _with envy." Jane answered.

* * *

**Added note:**

**For charity, please considering bidding for three fics I'm offering for Help Japan at the following awesome link place:**

**community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/help_japan/2978[dot]html?view=1446562#t1446562**


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: **Will You Marry Me?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own this. I never have, and never will.

**Thank you **to **phoenixmagic1**, **Ebony10**, **NonOmnisMoriar**, **Teresa Jane**, **Jisbon4ever**, **VEEBS8, lysjelonken**, **Brown Eyes Parker**, **Hisprincess12**, **Yen88**, **x-Pick'n'Mix-x**, **Frogster**, **blueMnM415**, **Streak of the Sun**, **LizfromItaly**, **ShunKickShunKers**, **AddictedToStendanKisses28**, **waterbaby134**, **watchyouwalk**, **JackSam**, and **govgal **for the amazing reviews. I also have to thank all my reviewers from previous chapters, all the alerts and favorites for this story. It's been a rather long journey, but we're finally at the end!

I thought a lot about this ending; the marriage proposals changed, and her answers changed with each one. In the end, I chose the ending that was the closest to my heart. I won't give anything away, but I really do hope you enjoy reading this last chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

* * *

**XXI.**

He cleared his throat as he stood in the middle of the Serious Crimes Unit bullpen, the various officers and employees just barely glanced at him before going back to whatever they had been doing. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt stared at him, and he grinned.

"Good afternoon, my excellent co-workers!"

"Where have you been all morning?" Van Pelt asked. "Lisbon's been looking for you!"

"Has she now?" He asked her, and Van Pelt nodded. "Oh, Lisbon! I'm home!"

(He wondered how long she would keep him waiting, when she suddenly stormed from her office in his direction.)

"Jane! Where the hell have you been?"

"Good afternoon to you also!" He told her. "Where's my welcome home present?"

Lisbon stared at him. "_Present?_" She snorted. "You think _you_ deserve a present?"

"Why of course!" He told her, as he pulled something from his pocket. "I haven't been arrested in the past twenty-four hours and… I have something for you!"

"Why?"

"Well Lisbon, I haven't exactly _done _anything lately that requires the use of a jail cell." She narrowed her eyes. "Exactly meaning I haven't done _anything _that would require the use of a jail cell!"

"Who did you piss off now?"

"I promise, I just needed to get your completely legal-animal and everything else you hate-free gift!" She seemed to relax, somewhat. "See this piece of paper?" He showed the entire Serious Crimes Unit the white piece of paper, before he turned back to Lisbon. "I'm going to read this to you."

Rigsby muttered quietly, "This better not be another poem."

"I thought the poem was…" Van Pelt offered, optimistically. "…interesting."

"And by interesting, she means creepy." Cho remarked.

"No poems here, just my words." He cleared his throat, before he glanced down at the paper. "The Ten Reasons Why We Should Marry!"

"Jane! We've had this discussion!" Lisbon hissed. "We've had this discussion more than I would care to have it!" He ignored her.

"Ten, both of us have high tolerances against annoying people!"

"I wonder why." Cho stated.

"Nine, we already act like we're married at work! You're my work wife!" Lisbon's eye twitched. "Eight! My poetry, like us, would get better over time."

"You're comparing _us _to your poetry skills?" Lisbon asked. "You don't have _any _poetry skills."

He lifted his eyes off the piece of paper. "I have _some _poetry skills, otherwise there would be no us!"

"Boss," Rigsby interrupted. "It's so bad; you can't look away or stop listening?" Lisbon shook her head.

"Seven," he glanced back down at his list of reasons. "You have handcuffs."

Van Pelt stifled a laugh, and Lisbon glanced at her. "Sorry boss, it's just…" Van Pelt bit her lip. "Jane seems to have a fixation on your handcuffs."

"Tell me about it," Lisbon muttered.

"Six, I could _finally _follow you around and it wouldn't be considered creepy because I would be your husband!"

"You _work _with me. Following me, _at work_, is legal. Following me home, I will have you arrested." Lisbon warned him.

"I _want _to follow you home though!" He told her. "Where's the fun if I can't follow you home?"

"Now, I just want to arrest _you _for sounding creepy." Lisbon answered.

"Oh, Lisbon." He said, in amusement. "Five, our lives are more interesting when we're in danger, so our marriage would be the most interesting situation ever!"

"I honestly have nothing to say." Lisbon answered. "This list is completely ridiculous!"

"Four, because I'm the only person who would continuously ask you to marry me, even after being rejected over-and-over again."

"Just because you're an idiot, does not mean you can list it as a good reason to marry you." Lisbon remarked, as the entire unit looked on in amusement.

"Three, our names would look and sound good together! Mr. and Mrs. Patrick and Teresa Jane."

"…"

"If everybody married based on last names sounding _good together_, we'd have more divorces than marriages." Van Pelt told him.

"Reason two! We're already madly in love; you just don't know it yet."

Lisbon shook her head. "…and I wonder why we even let you work here."

"You can deny your love for me all you want, but we all know you love me." He told her, before reading number one. "And lastly, it's because I say we should and I'm _always _right!"

Lisbon was quiet.

"You did really well…up until the last eight." Van Pelt gave.

"Were the handcuffs a bit too much?" He asked them.

(He had debated on the handcuffs versus the fact he doesn't snore for quite a while, until he had decided the handcuffs might be more of a valid reason for marriage.)

"Yes." Cho responded.

"Lisbon?" He glanced at her. "Your silence after my long thought-out list scares me."

"I'm _glad _my silence scares you." Lisbon answered.

"What do you say? Will you marry me?"

Lisbon let out a frustrated sigh. "You just never learn do you?"

"I learn plenty of things, Lisbon! I…"

"Jane?" She interrupted. "Do you even _know _the definition of seriousness?"

"Of course!" He chimed back. "Seriousness, something that people who can't take a joke have."

"Do you want to know _why _I won't say yes?" Lisbon asked him, as she loosened her glare for a few moments.

"I already know." He told her, and she raised her eyebrow in response. "It's obvious, you're afraid of commitment. I completely _understand_."

Lisbon merely shot him a glance, and walked away.

"What?" He asked, and Van Pelt glanced at him. "Did I say something wrong?"

"For somebody who can read people extremely well, you're pretty clueless." Van Pelt explained, and he glanced at her. "If you're going to propose to her, at least _try _and be serious?"

"Serious?" He asked. This wasn't being serious, this was a _game._ He was proposing to her because he could, and it had _nothing _to do with his feelings for her. "My middle name has never been serious."

"Nor will it ever be." Cho answered.

"You're in love with her," Van Pelt responded, with a bright smile.

"No, I'm not." He argued. "Lisbon and I are friends. _Just _friends."

Rigsby snorted. "The definition of just friends isn't what I'm seeing."

"That's because," he glanced at Rigsby. "You see all office relationships being more meaningful than the next." Rigsby glanced at his desk, before he grinned back at Jane.

"I'm not the one proposing to everybody in this unit, now am I?"

"It's _just _Lisbon."

"Just? Or…" Rigsby lowered his voice. "_Just._"

He didn't reply to Rigsby, and went back to his familiar couch to think things over.

Lisbon _obviously_, was a very special woman to him and if being serious would get him a yes, well then.

He'd go serious.

Just for the time being of course, after all—serious _wasn't _his middle name and this was _just _a game.

(He ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise.)

* * *

**XXII.**

Lisbon let herself into her apartment, and slammed the door behind her before letting out a frustrated sigh.

Patrick Jane had _once again_, managed to get under her skin—she wasn't afraid of commitment—she had _never _been afraid of commitment, but more afraid of taking him on into her unit two years ago. The wedding proposals added a new mystery to the man, who thought he was _just _playing a game.

(She had a feeling she'd find out soon about the entire wedding deal, because while Jane _did _have his faults—he was never one about keeping her in the dark forever.)

Her fingers rested against the light switch for a second, before the sound of glass breaking had her gun in her hand, and already heading toward the kitchen. She didn't say anything as she inched closer and closer, until finally she spotted her intruder standing over her sink.

It was dark. She stepped closer and closer. She couldn't see. She swung out with her gun, and the individual fell to the floor with a giant thump.

(When the lights finally came on, she realized that her intruder had been none other than Patrick Jane.)

**Sometime Later**

"What in the _hell _were you thinking?" Lisbon ranted, as she held an ice pack to the back of his head.

"I'd like to ask you the same thing, Lisbon." Jane told her, as she removed the ice pack to look at the bruising while the both of them remained in her living room. "If you had said something, I would have _told _you it was…" She pressed the ice bag to his head, and he hissed in pain.

"Does it hurt?" Jane nodded, and she pressed harder. "Good."

"I only wanted to surprise you!"

"…my _only _surprise was finding you on my kitchen floor."

"That's your fault, Lisbon." Jane explained and she glanced down at him. "I was only trying to make you dinner…!"

"In the dark?"

"Don't you ever cook in the dark?"

"No."

"It's very therapeutic—stress just melts away." Jane grinned.

"Along with one of your fingers, if you aren't careful." Lisbon threw back.

"I'm perfectly safe with knives. Its politicians and apparently you that I have problems with." Lisbon rolled her eyes in response, as he chuckled. "I'm alive, and we're alone. I should finish dinner."

Lisbon pressed the ice bag into his bruise again. "You're not going anywhere." Jane opened his mouth to argue. "At least until I'm sure you're not going to pass out in some gutter, somewhere."

"I told you my name when I woke up."

"And you _also _told me you thought you were in _Rainbow Fish _land."

"You're the one who gave me a concussion."

"You're the one who broke into my home!" Lisbon exclaimed, and she removed the ice pack from his head. "If you want to leave, leave. Last time I checked, nobody was stopping you."

"Actually, I'm stopping myself from leaving—considering I might just have a concussion." Jane replied, as he stood from the couch to glance down at her. "I have something important to ask you."

Lisbon sighed. "If you're asking me to marry you, the answer will forever remain no."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Lisbon responded. "And," he slightly moved closer. "If you try and hypnotize me, I will find a reason to arrest you besides breaking and entering."

"Oh Lisbon," Jane softly muttered. "You'll say yes, because you know I'm trying to be serious."

Jane and Lisbon stared at each other for another moment.

"If you say yes," he continued. "There's no need for a wedding right now."

"Who said I was going to say yes?" Lisbon asked, and Jane smirked.

"Who said you weren't?"

In that moment, Jane got down on one knee and grinned up at her.

"You know, this moment is ruined by the fact you've got a golf-clubbed size knot on your head…right?" Lisbon questioned.

Jane softly smirked. "Want to kiss it better?" Lisbon didn't look amused, and he cleared his throat. "Now, I'm going to ask you something." He placed his hand into his pants pocket, and pulled out a velvet box.

"Jane, I…"

"Hush." He told her. "I'm trying to be serious." She only rolled her eyes. "Now, I suppose I should apologize—I not only broke into your apartment, but I uh…broke into your office."

"You did _what?_" Lisbon asked.

"I needed your phonebook." He told her. "I couldn't ask to marry you without permission."

Lisbon's mouth opened. "You didn't."

"I thought about it." He informed her. "But, you wanted seriousness. I'm going to give you that seriousness." He cleared his throat again. "Teresa Lisbon, I know I'm many things…"

"Annoying, stubborn, impossible, irritable…" Lisbon muttered under her breath, to the amusement of Jane.

"Yes, I'm all those things and more—but, and I've given this a lot of thought, this marriage thing started out as a game and well…it can't end as a game." He smirked. "Clearly, asking you twenty-one times means I'm either really bored or I'm 'in love with you'."

"Van Pelt's words?" Lisbon asked.

"Of course." Jane answered. "Grace is the hopeless romantic of the team, Rigsby might need a proposal though—he seemed a little jealous..."

"Go on," Lisbon interrupted, and he nodded.

"The more thought I put into this, the more I realized that while you probably enjoyed all twenty-one wedding proposals…you didn't know exactly _why _I was doing them. I'll admit, at first—it was all about the teasing and the banter but toward the end, it became something neither of us could have anticipated." Jane paused.

"If you say sexual tension…"

"Nope." Jane annunciated. "Our working relationship developed into something else, and then that something else involved into something else, which eventually became that something else which defined our relationship."

"And people say you have no logic. I wonder why." Lisbon mocked, dryly.

"Thank you, Lisbon!" Jane gave. "As I was saying, my question started out as a game and now, I'm ready to be serious." Lisbon stared at him. "Okay, as serious as I can be." She nodded. "Teresa Lisbon," he repeated. "Will you marry me?"

Jane flipped open the velvet box in his palm, and inside was a note. "Go ahead and take it."

Lisbon did so.

"Most men don't make riddles within riddles." Lisbon commented, as she opened the note.

_Obviously, you'll say no to marriage right now—I expected nothing less from you, Agent Lisbon. _

_However, will you do the honor and go on a date with me instead? _

Lisbon glanced back up at him. "You can't do anything in the correct order, can you?"

Jane beamed. "It would be boring if I did."

"Yes, it would." Lisbon agreed, with a smile of her own. "I suppose I should tell you I can't marry you."

"That would be the general idea, now wouldn't it be?" He asked her, as he slowly got off his one knee. "I mean, you've said no twenty-one times…why be any different this time?"

"…maybe I could find a reason to be different…overtime of course."

"Of course," he continued to beam, as he began to walk away from her, until she caught his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He glanced at her. "I thought I was going home, but your hand is telling me differently."

"You're not going anywhere until you clean up the mess you've made." Her smile grew, as he glanced at her.

"But, _Lisbon_! I was injured!"

"The cleaning supplies are under the sink." Lisbon directed, and Jane lost his grin. "You're not leaving until you clean it up."

"What if I don't want to leave?"

"Go." She ordered and Jane gave her a mock salute before heading toward the kitchen. "Oh, and Jane?" He turned around. "Friday. 8 o'clock. Don't be late."

The smile on his face couldn't have been any larger, even if he had tried.

(So, he didn't get her to marry him—but this was just the beginning—someday, Teresa Lisbon _would _say yes, and then some day, she would say _I do_.)


End file.
